


we can make it so divine

by softresurrection



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:37:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softresurrection/pseuds/softresurrection
Summary: The time comes for Sansa to go back home.





	1. bravado

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'ribs' by lorde
> 
> not grrm/d&d so nothings mine by default except plot
> 
> forgive me this was rushed out in my notes app in an hour at three am 
> 
> (westeros is a continent in the modern world and all the places are countries)

The suitcase clattered loudly on the stairs, the metal wheels slamming against the surface of each stair as she wrestled with it along with her two other bags. Sansa stopped, wiping away a watery streak on her cheek. At this point, after the week she'd had, she didn't know whether it was a tear or sweat. 

She huffed, blowing her fiery hair away from her face, and hoisted the duffel bag back onto her shoulder, continuing her voyage to the fourth floor of her brother's apartment building. Gods, why the fuck did Robb live in a building where the elevator was always out of service? What did he even do when Bran visited? Sansa shuddered at the thought of poor Bran being pushed up the bumpy stairs in his wheelchair. 

As she reached Robb's floor, even through the general air of defeat surrounding her, Sansa felt relieved. Being broken up with was almost a better experience than carrying three bags up those stairs. Almost. 

She trudged over to Robb's door, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes before knocking. There was no response, so Sansa knocked again, a little harder. It took so long for her to hear any sign of life that she sighed and turned her back to the door, hoisting her bag up on her shoulder and almost breaking out into tears at the thought of Robb not being home. It had been a very long day and walking back down those stairs was an extremely daunting prospect. 

Right as she started to move again, the door behind her opened. Sansa spun around so fast that her head almost felt light, although that could have been because she hadn't eaten since the night before. At the sight of Jon Snow in front of her, Sansa almost started sobbing. Gods, it was good to see a familiar face. 

Jon looked surprised to see her, his mouth nearly open. "Sansa?"

She smiled with relief clear in her eyes. "Gods, yes. It feels so good to hear my own name again." Sansa pushed herself forward towards Jon until she was standing right in the doorway. 

"Fuck, come in. Did you tell anyone you were coming?" Jon moved aside, rubbing his neck, still looked a bit in shock at seeing her again. 

Jon looked the same as before, the same smoldering grey eyes, the same chiseled cheeks, and yet he looked so different. He had grown his hair out enough that it was pulled into a loose bun at the back of his head and he had obviously spent lots of long hours at the gym since she'd last seen him because he'd completely filled out his lanky frame. 

Sansa spoke while observing him, "No, it was a bit of a sudden plan, I suppose." Suddenly, the weight of it all came crashing back to her as she thought about why she hadn't informed anyone beforehand about her return to Wintertown. 

Her face must have crumpled visibly enough for even the ever oblivious Jon to notice, because he quickly pulled her into a warm, comforting hug. Sansa buried her face into his shoulder, breathing his scent in. It was good to know at least Jon Snow's cologne choice hadn't changed in her rapidly shifting universe. 

Jon's fingers rubbed calming circles on her back. Sansa felt her mind clear as she pulled back from the tight hug he held her in. 

"I'm okay! I'm fine, really. How are you? We haven't spoken in a while, tell me everything." Sansa spoke cheerily, trying to distract Jon from his obvious intentions to ask after her problems. 

He still looked wary about her changing the subject but he took her behavior in stride, leading her towards the couch in the living room. He'd picked her bags up and took them along with him. 

Sansa followed, taking in the design choices Jon and Robb had made in their flat. It was definitely different from her flat in Kings Landing, and even her place in the Vale had been more ostentatious than the bachelor pad. It felt homey, however, maybe because of it's sheer simplicity. She sat on the brown leather couch as Jon lined her bags up neatly in the hallway and dipped into the kitchen. 

He came back to sit next to her with two cans of beer in his hand, giving one to her. Sansa accepted it, raising an eyebrow at him to prompt him to answer her questions. 

"Okay. Since the last time we talked. Gods, that was a while ago, Sans. I don't know where to start." Jon shook his head, as if marveling at how time had managed to tangle their relationship. 

"So tell me everything that happened in that while, Jon. I've got time, and it's a Saturday evening and you're at home, so obviously, you do too." She smiled teasingly at him, desperately willing him to realize through the look in her eyes how much the sense of normalcy would mean to her right now. She could explain tomorrow. 

"Okay, okay." He raised his hands up as if surrendering, and gave her a look showing that he understood. "We talked last about, what, seven months ago? So I was with Ygritte, still. Well, she broke up with me about two months after that to go travel through Southryos, alone, I offered to go along but she was adamant about the whole 'alone' part." Although Jon smiled as if it meant less than it really did, she could see the clear insecurity in his eyes about the whole matter. 

"I haven't really dated anyone since then, not properly." Jon shrugged. "Otherwise, everything's been going great at work. Still a policeman, in case you were wondering."

Sansa laughed, he'd always been so humble. "I was wondering, actually, when you were going to get to the Medal of Valor part?" 

Jon immediately blushed. "Gods, Robb really told everyone, didn't he? I met one of your uncles the other day and he hugged me in congratulations." His words are exasperated but his tone is as fond as it had ever been. 

"He better have! Medal of Valor, Jon! I thought about texting you but then I decided to send a gift along with a card." At Jon's confused look, she continued. "I guess it hasn't arrived yet?"

He shakes his head, confirming her thought. "Sweet thought, though. Very hipster. Did you take a social media detox?" 

Sansa tried to smile sarcastically but her lips stretched into a wide grin regardless. It was stupid how much just being in the company of someone from home had cheered her up. She also wouldn't deny that it helped that it was Jon who was cheering her up. 

"You're so funny. Have you considered doing stand up?" Sansa couldn't stop her amusement from leaking into her sarcastic tone. 

Jon laughed, for the first time since she had arrived. His laugh was still loud and unabashed when it was finally elicited. Sansa could not help giggling along with him. Seeing her made him laugh even harder, and soon the both of them were clutching their stomachs and howling with mirth. Sansa couldn't even remember what had brought about the fit by the time they started taking in deep breaths and halting themselves. 

After that, they dropped into a few seconds of comfortable silence before a thought struck Sansa. "Where's my brother, by the way?" 

Sansa hadn't talked to Robb in a few days, not since the whole debacle had started. She hoped he would be okay with putting her up for a few weeks until she found herself a proper living arrangement. 

"Oh, he's out with Jeyne." Jon stopped, as if bemused for a second, before he started again. "You know who Jeyne is, right?"

Sansa snorted. "Of course I know who Jeyne is, she's been all Robb has talked about for like, six months." She hid it with humor but silently, Sansa felt a bit hurt that Jon would think that she didn't talk to her brother enough to know about the girl he was in love with. 

Jon smiled, "Oh, sorry. It's just that Robb didn't tell any of us for a few months until he was really sure about it, so I wasn't sure you knew."

Sansa felt her heart warm. Robb had never told her that no one else knew at the time he'd let her in on the secret about two weeks into his budding relationship. 

"I'm pretty sure he'll be okay with it but would you mind me camping out on your couch for a few weeks? Just until I figure out where to go next, I promise." Sansa felt a bit hesitant, what if he outright refused? She was almost sure he wouldn't do that, they had been good friends, but who knew? 

"Of course, Sans. You can even have my room if you want." He said it so sincerely that Sansa genuinely believed he would actually not hate her even if she insisted on taking his room. 

"What, and put you out in your own house? I'm smaller, anyway, I'll fit better on the couch." She smiled, waving away the offer, relieved that he'd accepted the situation so easily. 

"Sansa Stark, are you calling me fat?" He immediately stood up and looked so mock offended that she was confused for a moment until she saw the grin threatening to break out on his face. 

"What if I am? You've put on some weight since I've been gone, Snow." Sansa teasingly continued the joke. 

"Hey, this is all muscle!" Jon looked so funny pointing at his biceps that she couldn't help but break the facade and laugh. 

"You're a geek, Jon Snow." She chuckled softly before resting her head on the arm of the couch and lying down. 

He smiled down at her before disappearing. Sansa looked back down at herself, wondering if she should change. Gods, making herself get up would be torture. As she was contemplating standing up, Jon walked back into the room, carrying an old shirt and some shorts, along with a toothbrush, a pillow and a blanket. 

"Just until you unpack your stuff." He handed her the things. "Don't expect this kind of treatment every night, princess." His smile told her he was joking. 

Sansa grasped his hand as he was pulling it away, squeezing it tightly before letting it go. "Thanks for all of this, Jon. I really appreciate it." 

His eyes softened, "Of course, Sans. What are friends for?" 

Sansa refrained from mentioning that they hadn't spoken in nearly seven months since her ex-boyfriend had gotten jealous of their relationship. It wouldn't do to bring up her past mistakes when he was clearly giving her a second chance. She could ask forgiveness when she talked to him about everything else. 

As Jon was turning around and walking towards his room, Sansa called out to him. "Jon! Where's the bathroom?" 

As he pointed towards it, Sansa took her newly acquired stuff and walked in. As she changed her clothes, Sansa took her phone out of the pocket of her pants. A quick glance showed her that she had at least forty texts, at which she promptly switched the device off entirely, deciding that her editor could scream at her later. 

After brushing her teeth, Sansa went back to the couch, her couch, she supposed, and fell asleep the second her head touched the pillow Jon had set on the seat.


	2. something that i used to feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> banged it out in an hour again, notes app again, forgive me

The sun rose early the next day, a cold winter sun perfectly suited for the North. Sansa rose many, many hours after that. 

As she opened her eyes, confusion reigned in her mind for a moment. The reason for the unfamiliarity of her setting made itself clear soon enough, after which she didn't let herself dwell on her thoughts for long and got out of her makeshift bed. 

The couch was comfortable but it was still a couch, and Sansa was used to sleeping on extremely high thread counts and exceedingly comfortable mattresses. Her back let out several satisfying cracks, the sound of which made her cringe and heave a sigh of relief at the same time. 

As she brushed her teeth in the bathroom, Sansa noticed that there were three other toothbrushes on the sink. One read "R" and the other two had "J" imprinted on them. She couldn't help but smile, her brother was in all sorts of domestic bliss, wasn't he. 

Another reason for her contentment, vehemently denied and shoved far down inside, was the fact that there was no other toothbrush. Jon had already told her he was completely single but little things like that just solidified his claim. 

After Sansa finished with her morning routine, she ambled over to the kitchen to check the fridge. It felt awfully like snooping, but Sansa had to remind herself that at least one of the apartment's residents was okay with her temporarily living there, and the other one was her older brother. 

What really warranted her to look through their food, however, was the fact that her stomach kept growling horribly loud. It was almost noon and she hadn't eaten for almost forty hours. She might even have actually snooped with that justification. 

Sansa picked a lone ripe banana, a carton of milk and the agave syrup which for some reason, they had put in the fridge. She felt odd drinking dairy milk as she had strictly drank almond milk for years, and it almost tasted weird by now. A bit of rooting through the cabinets found her a granola bar which she crushed inside a bowl, topping it with milk and adding the banana and syrup. 

She sat on the small wooden kitchen table, enjoying her breakfast, despite it mostly being composed of odd ends which were all Robb and Jon seemed to have in their kitchen. The position granted her a direct line of sight to the door and that was why she immediately noticed when the lock moved and the doorknob twisted. 

Sansa waited for a second as the door opened and in came her brother. Gods, she had missed him. Robb had been the only sibling who had visited her regularly in Kings Landing where she had studied and then the Vale where she had lived and wrote under a pen name for a few years. It had led to her becoming even closer to him than she already had been when she left the North. That was why he had been the first family member she thought of going to when her life in the Vale was cut short. 

As Robb hung his coat and set his keys on the table, Sansa stood up and walked into the hallway. When he turned towards her, she could see the clear, palpable shock on his face. It was almost funny. 

"Sansa? What the fuck?" He sounded like he was seeing things. 

"Okay, not the reaction I was expecting, but I suppose it's fine only because of the look on your face." Sansa laughed, moving towards him. 

"You're actually here!" Robb shook himself, as if seeing her for the first time, and quickly walked towards her, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Gods, she had missed him. Everything was better when Robb was around. She'd tell him all that had happened and he'd help her figure everything out. After a minute or two of Robb's comforting hug, Sansa pulled back. 

"And where were you all night, mister?" Sansa couldn't resist poking fun at her sweet, loved up brother. 

"Alright, alright. I am so sleep deprived but we need to talk. Like, now." Robb looked serious, he had probably recognized her internal turmoil from the intensity with which she had hugged him. 

"Yes. Okay. I'm not going to make any jokes about why you're sleep deprived and use humor as a coping mechanism. I'm not. Let's sit down." Sansa babbled, mentally getting all the points straight. 

As she led a bemused Robb towards the couch, the door to Jon's room opened and the man himself came outside. He looked well rested, his hair tangled and his eyes barely open. He wasn't even wearing a shirt. 

Seeing the two of them standing in the middle of the living room, he started. "When did you get home?"

Sansa found herself breathing a little harder. He could either be shirtless, or all growly from sleep. One choice. This was too much, especially for the moment at hand. 

"Just now. Did you set Sansa up last night?" Robb held her hand, holding her constant in the spot she was already frozen in. 

"Yeah. She came late, around midnight, but you weren't home yet and she wouldn't take either of our beds." Jon spoke as he moved around the kitchen, making his coffee. 

"Hey, standing right here!" Sansa waved her hand. "And you come here as well, I should just tell you both at the same time." Sansa recognized that this probably wasn't the best time to have the conversation, but it was the only time she felt like having it. 

Jon sauntered over with his coffee and sat down on the couch, looking at her. He was still shirtless. Sansa forcibly waved away her distraction, she would deal with that pile of humongous crap later, alone. 

All three of them sat on the couch, in a line, with Sansa in the middle. She almost felt like it was story time and she was the adult. 

"Gods, okay. I'll start at the beginning. You guys know Harry, I dated him for about a year." Sansa almost winces at her own stupidity. "I told him my name was Alayne Stone, because that's the name I write under and that's the name I told him when he asked me at the bar we first met at. I just never corrected him later." Sansa shrugged sheepishly, feeling odd at the feeling of Jon and Robb's bewildered gazes focusing on her. 

"Anyway, so, he proposed to me a week ago. Sunday. We went to dinner, and he did the whole thing, champagne, roses, dramatic speech, the whole restaurant was listening. And you guys know me! I got anxious, and said no and then being stupid, I told him he didn't even know my name so why would he want to marry someone he didn't really know?" Sansa felt Robb's look get more intense, and Jon's eyes moved down, averting his gaze from hers. 

She cut off Robb's sentence as he began to speak. "Moving on. Thursday. I get a call from my publisher, saying that the company I have a book deal with is going to try to weasel out of it. Why? Because Harry fucking Hardyng told the Lannisters who I was and they'd blacklisted my writing already. Their influence made sure no one else would take me either. That's why I was so cautious about my name for years. It's too recognizable and I wanted to be anything but. " Sansa paused for breath, blinking away tears, just as Jon's hand slipped into hers. When she glanced at him, his eyes were so reassuring that she found the strength to continue speaking. 

"So there I was, in this grey country with no family, no job, no boyfriend, when I had all three a week ago. Didn't end there. I lost all the friends who thought I was Alayne Stone. And I've been on trains for here since then." Sansa knew people were immersed in situations a thousand times worse, and they had survived. She had to tell herself that she would too. 

"Gods, can the two of us go and kill Hardyng?" Surprisingly, it wasn't Robb who spoke but Jon. 

The solemnity with which he spoke made the question sound much more serious than it actually was. Sansa smiled at him. "Fuck, I've created another Robb. This is what Frankenstein felt like, isn't it?"

Jon chuckled quietly as Robb snorted. "No, but he's right. I want to tear that bastard limb from limb. Fucking smarmy, rich cunt." Robb looked as if he could catch the next flight and actually murder Harry. 

Sansa couldn't help but laugh. "Calling people rich as an insult, are we? Should we ignore our own trust funds?" 

Robb spluttered a little, his face still red with anger. "You know what I mean! He's disgusting. Gods, I can't believe you dated him, Sans." Jon nodded fervently as Robb spoke. 

"Me either. I want to puke every time I think about that fact that I had sex with the git." Sansa automatically put on an exaggerated disgusted expression, shuddering dramatically. She didn't know if it was a figment of her imagination or reality when it felt like Jon's hold on her hand tightened. 

"No! No! Why did I have to hear that? I haven't even slept yet, I don't deserve this." Robb looked even more disgusted than she did, and she had been seriously overplaying it. 

Sansa suddenly felt selfish. "Gods, Robb, I'm sorry, go sleep." 

"I didn't mean that!" Robb protested. "Besides, take my bed. Don't sleep on the couch." 

"I already did. It's comfortable." Sansa stopped, gathering the nerves to ask him whether she could stay. "Also, I need to know if you can put me up for a couple of weeks till I get a place to stay?" Sansa felt hesitant while asking for some reason, despite knowing there was no way Robb would refuse her. 

"Of course you can, stupid. You don't even need to ask." Robb stopped mid sentence, his accepting expression morphing into one he wore when he'd had a (usually terrible) idea. "Actually, I'll do you one better." Robb had an excited expression on his face, as if he'd had an idea and couldn't wait to shove it into everybody's faces. "Move in here, permanently."

He looked so satisfied with his solution that Sansa almost felt bad breaking his little illusion. "That's cute, Robb, really. Your couch isn't that comfortable, I was exaggerating."

"No, no, no. See, you could live here, with Jon! I've been wanting to talk about this for a while." Robb actually looked very pleased with his idea. 

It was Jon's turn to look puzzled. "What? How would that even work? Where would you go?" 

"I've been meaning to sort this out with you for a while, Jon. Jeyne wants me to move in with her. She's been asking for a few months but I've been putting it off. This is the perfect opportunity, see?" As Robb explained, it made sense in Sansa's mind. She could see it working. 

After all, Jon and she were friends already. They liked each other and neither one of them was a slob. 

"Wait, what? How long? If you've been wanting to get rid of me for that long, why didn't you just say so?" Contrary to Sansa, Jon didn't look happy with Robb's solution.   
She tried not to feel offended. 

"I didn't want to get rid of you, Jon, for fuck's sake. You're my best friend but I want to marry Jeyne some day and she really wants this." Robb looked so apologetic that Sansa wondered whether she should leave the two alone. 

Jon finally looked down at their hands, as if he had just realized that they were still joined. He pulled his hand away and sat straight, facing the coffee table. His face passed through a series of expressions until it finally fixed on one. 

"Congratulations, man." Jon spoke earnestly. "I just got really used to living with you. Now that I think about it, it'll be great to have somebody around who actually does laundry and cook things other than eggs." 

Sansa cleared her throat, speaking before Robb got a chance to. "Who do you think taught him the eggs?" 

Jon looked at her for a moment, as if analyzing her, before laughing and shaking his head. "Gods, you're impossible." 

"Oh, good. I'm so fucking relieved, man. I was worried you'd like, never talk to me again." Robb spoke from her other side. 

"What kind of melodramatic soap opera star do you think I am?" Jon actually leaned over to slap Robb's thigh, which was the only place he could reach. 

"You do have the broody face for it." Sansa couldn't resist the opportunity to play with Jon. 

Jon pinched her side, making her laugh, before taking her hand into his again. As their eyes met, grey and blue, coal and sapphire, Sansa felt something shift in her heart. Maybe it would all be easier after this.


	3. darling, i'm ready

Early in the evening, the door of the flat slammed behind Robb as he took the last two boxes out to his car. 

Sansa turned and surveyed the living room with a keen eye, making sure everything was as it was supposed to be and not the mess of odd ends it had been for the past two weeks since Robb had been packing. 

Thinking back on everything that had happened in the past month, Sansa suppressed a sigh of relief. She hadn't let herself think her return home would be as smooth as it actually had been. 

She would be the first to admit that she had run away when the going had gotten tough, leaving her family behind to run off to university. She had gotten caught up in the dream of a perfect life in Kings Landing, away from all the strife and sorrow her family had faced since her father had died. It had been that idealism which had crushed Sansa's dreams of becoming a famous author in Kings Landing, that blind optimism which had accidentally landed her right in the middle of the games of the very rich and the very powerful. 

It didn't mean that she had forgotten her family in the process, but spending five years away from a place did make it seem like a distant memory in her mind. Sansa hadn't forgotten the warmth of her mother's hug or the feeling she got when she succeeded in making sullen teenage Arya laugh. She hadn't forgotten what it felt like to help Bran with homework even his genius intellect couldn't understand or her tendency to coddle Rickon and smother him with kisses. 

Yet, that had been half a decade ago and she couldn't be sure how her family would react to her coming back. Despite their constant contact and support, Sansa had always felt a quiet resentment in her family for leaving them to pursue a new life. Except for Robb and Bran, who had understood that even though how she dealt with grief was different from them, it never meant that she didn't love them. 

It was all of that hesitation that had made her wait a week before showing up at her mother's place unannounced on Sunday night family dinner. Sansa had almost thought Arya would faint, she'd looked so shocked. The rest of them had jumped at her so fast that she almost fell. It had been the best homecoming she could have expected. She'd felt like she was walking on air the next day. 

The only thing bringing her down, surprisingly, was Jon Snow. Ever since Robb had announced his plan to move out, Jon had looked on edge. He was never outright rude but he was broodier than usual and it mostly felt like he was avoiding Sansa. The day before, she had tried to talk to him about rent and he hadn't properly looked at her even once during the entire conversation. He hadn't even retaliated to her jokes at his expense. 

It almost felt like she was an intruder in the place she was supposed to make her home. 

Sansa moved towards the couch, flopping down on it, bone deep tired after a long day of carrying boxes up and down four flights of stairs to Robb's car. Gods, those fucking stairs would kill her. The human body wasn't built to exercise that much. She made a mental note to pay for the elevator renovation herself. 

A few minutes later, Jon's door opened and he walked out, going straight towards the kitchen. Sansa resisted the urge to throw something at his stupid, pretty face. Technically, it was their first night as flatmates. Shouldn't he be nicer? The first few days, she'd really thought that she might actually be able to let her repressed feelings surface, and he would feel the same. She scoffed at her past self. As if. 

"Why do we have so much fruit in our fridge? This feels weird." Jon walked out of the kitchen, surprisingly moving towards her instead of his room. 

Sansa bristled. "What, is it too 'girly' for you to have actual food in the kitchen?" She even made the air quotes, mentally mocking herself simultaneously. 

Jon's eyebrows almost touched his hairline. "I- what? I meant it as in, you know, a good weird. Like, I'm not used to it. I haven't got some grudge against strawberries, Sans." His grin by the the end of the sentence was almost stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe if she repeated it enough times, she wouldn't feel so disarmed. 

Sansa shook herself, collecting her wits from the corners that the sight of Jon Snow's smile scattered them in. She scoffed derisively, "Oh, feeling funny, are we?" At Jon's confused look, she continued. "It's awfully rude to ignore your new flatmate for weeks, you know?" 

Jon at least had the good sense to flush a little and avert his eyes. He mumbled something Sansa was almost glad she couldn't make out. 

At the questioning raise of her brow, he started again, more clearly. "I wasn't ignoring you. Why would I do that?"

Gods, was that the route he was going to take? Did men never grow out of middle school mentality? "I don't know, Snow, you tell me. Are you sad about Robb leaving and taking it out on me or do you actually have an issue with me being here?"

Jon replied instantly, earnestly. "No. I don't want you to leave. I guess I just-" Jon paused, looking around the room and rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I just don't know how to act around you anymore."

Sansa felt her heart sink a little. She'd been holding out hope that his silence had more to do with Robb than her. "Why? Was seven months enough to make you forget years of friendship?" She couldn't help lashing out a bit. 

Jon's expression immediately turned challenging, as if he had been waiting for that. "Do I need to remind you why those seven months even happened? You really listened to your asshole of a boyfriend when he told you not to talk to me. Who the fuck does that to a friend, Sansa?"

Sansa felt her temper rising at the tone of his voice. "You were constantly flirting with me, Jon." Her voice felt acidic even to her own ears. "How was he supposed to feel?"

Jon looked furious, his hand gripping the arm of the couch so hard she was afraid it would break. "I was flirting with you? Was I alone in that, Sansa? We were close enough to flirt and have it mean nothing! Me sending you a suggestive text message didn't mean you could end our entire relationship and blame it on your insecure little boyfriend!"

Sansa stuttered out a shaky breath. Okay, he definitely wasn't holding back. "It didn't mean nothing to me." Her voice was small, barely even audible to anyone who wasn't sitting as close to her as Jon was. 

Before he could reply, Sansa stood up, already panicking. Fuck, she hadn't meant to let that slip out. Jon was just so infuriating sometimes, why would he say that it didn't mean anything? It had meant everything. She had stopped it because it had meant too much. 

Just as she was walking away, Jon grasped her hand. Sansa bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears. Gods, he was going to try to let her down easy. She had always known he was that kind of guy, and that was why she had never told him. A nice talk and a pat on the back was never what she had wanted from him. What she wanted was something that he had never seemed willing to give. 

Sansa took a deep breath, turning back towards him. "What, Jon? What could you possibly have left to say?" 

Jon's eyes were clear, focused on her and for once, clear of any self doubt. He pulled her towards himself. "I don't know if this is what you want to hear, but you meant everything to me. That's why I've been so angry. I thought you didn't even want me as a friend when I-" Jon moved impossibly closer. "When I want you as so much more." He was almost whispering, his breath hot on her face. 

Sansa's brain felt like it was overheating. She tried to rationalize her anxious mind. He couldn't be faking it, what would he get out of that? Jon wasn't a cruel person. Yet, the only option left seemed almost ludicrous. How could Jon like her now? He had never shown any interest before. As soon as she thought that, every interaction they'd ever had swam behind her eyes, her brain picking out relevant moments and offering them to her as if they were proof that what Jon was saying was real. 

The man standing in front of her squeezed her arm gently, as if he understood that she had gotten lost in her thoughts and needed saving. 

Sansa forcefully cleared her mind, looking into Jon's eyes. "Are you serious? You're not just making fun of me?"

"I love you, you idiot. Why would I make fun of you?" Jon's face remained clear, the tapping of his fingers on her arms the only tell of his nerves at saying the three words. 

Sansa felt like laughing. Gods, fuck, he loved her. He really loved her. She murmured, "You actually do, my gods. You actually love me." She could feel the tears coming into her eyes. "I've been trying to tell myself I don't love you for years. I do, though. I really do."

Jon's eyes were just as watery as hers, his hands stroking her arms before they moved to the small of her back. Sansa moved in first, her lips covering his in a sweet kiss, a first kiss. His mouth was warm and pliant under hers, his hair soft and silky under her fingers. They kissed chastely for a long moment before he pulled back. 

"I've wanted to do this since I was eighteen." Jon's smile was so wide that Sansa felt giddy as well. 

"I was sixteen, you pervert." She smiled again before leaning back in. 

This time, her mouth was still open when she kissed him, their tongues immediately meeting. His kiss was so hot that she felt like her veins were carrying singed blood. 

Sansa had thought about kissing Jon hundred of times, if only in the back of her head, trying to hide it even from herself. He had always been sweet in her dreams, kind and gentle. 

In real life, Jon was anything but. He was vicious, his tongue pushing into her mouth, and his hands pulling her into his body. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and he kissed with a ferocity she had never felt before. Her stomach felt tight, her body almost vibrating with energy and satisfaction. 

Sansa couldn't tell if they kissed for hours or a minute, time almost felt unreal. As they broke apart, gasping for breath, they leaned their foreheads against each other. The gesture was as mellow and sweet as the kiss was not. 

Sansa laughed, not able to help herself. He looked at her, dazed but confused. "Harry caught on before we did."

Jon stared at her for a second before laughing along with her. "Only smart thought the cunt ever had."

Sansa pulled him back into a kiss, both of them still smiling widely. Their teeth clacked against each other and their lips barely touched and yet, it was the best kiss of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it was a little too rushed, but whatever I guess it's done now


End file.
